The Demon
by 26Chapters
Summary: The Hessians kidnap Abbie, because they need her to bring a demon into the world.
1. Chapter 1

**This fic, is not my own creation. All the credit belongs to Sevin, who came up with the plot, and Citylivin99, who brought it to my attention. None of it belongs to me, so I'm disclaiming everything.**

**As requested, Abbie and Ichabod have a strictly friendly relationship.**

**Oh, and please, accuracy and inaccuracy of the story, please don't point it out, this is fanfiction after all. Just kindly requesting. Thanks.**

Abigail Mills remembers a time when a bad day meant two drunk men were arrested for public indecency, and further went to disrupt the order in the holding cells. Those were the quiet days. Now, a good day means she's barely escaped being burned alive, and has war wounds to show for it. These days, a good day comes around every fifteen days, and that's minus the inevitable incidents that Sleepy Hollow just seems to be bursting with.

She also remembers that she hated the quiet days, they were a drag, especially when she had to return home to her apartment. The rest of the evening never blossomed into 'a quiet wonderful night at home', if anything, it dulled to something close to 'a quiet day at the station, no life of activity.' She hated the quiet days so much, she was ready to leave for the FBI. But thankfully-and very much unfortunately-the quiet days are a thing of the past, they are so long behind her that she has to actually think about it to remember that she had a previous life. Because now, she has a new life, this new life that Ichabod Crane has created for her. And in this new life, she looks forward to going home at the end of a long day, because everyday for them is a long day. Going home now, is too exciting a prospect to not be welcome. It means snuggling deep into the warmness of her sheets where nothing of the kind she had to endure on a daily basis lay.

Tonight specifically, after the running around looking for answers, the dark slimy caves they'd spent an unbelievable amount of time in, and the way she once again broke one of her 'I'll never do that' rules, her only wish it to soak her skin in a salted warm bath, to rid her of all of today. The day had been long, and if Crane hadn't been with her-not just today, but everyday since they began-she wouldn't thrown in the towel a long time ago.

Abbie says a short prayer of thanks before she steps out of the car. She's taken to praying whenever she got home, a sign that she's somehow accepted that she, like Crane is a Witness, no matter how dreadful that got. Final checking that all her windows are shut, she opens the door and steps out. A chilly air meets her, crashing into her face without gentleness. She quickly shuts the door, more out of chill than her deep want to get into her home. Luckily, she thinks thankfully as she starts to towards the building of her apartment in a half run, she's not one of those girls who carry those insanely large pocketbooks, otherwise she'd have a harder time getting to her apartment while dragging that thing with her. She's simple and uncomplicated, and that suits her just fine. It serves her well too, with her job in law enforcement (and recently keeping evil away), she never got the second to indulge in luxuries anyway.

She makes it to the door of her apartment in under three minutes. A sudden wariness at her door has her reaching for her gun in the holster. Normally, she doesn't have trouble getting into her home without a thought, but tonight, there's something in the air that she can't explain.

She presses her ear flat against the door, listening for the tiniest sound that could be coming from the other side of the door. Nothing does, yet the feeling of suspicion she has doesn't go away. She feels ridiculous for having her gun out like she's in any kind of danger, so she sticks it back, instead extracting her keys from her pocket. Carefully, she inserts the key into the lock, turning it slowly, because her heartbeat has spiked too high, and she can hear her own heavy breathing. Maybe she does need the gun after all, she thinks, and removes it again. She opens the door with caution, the gun firmly in her grip. Police training has taught her that when dealing with criminals, one could never be too careful, and turning the light on puts her at a disadvantage, so she opts to creep into her dark apartment. She picks up the faint smell of mould and leather, but she isn't sure if she imagines it. Relaxing a notch when she's fully inside, and nothing has happened, she lowers her gun, letting it hang loosely down her side. Though she cannot get rid of the feeling of dread she has. Abbie reaches her hand behind her to the switch, clicking it on. Her heart settles when light floods into the room, easing the fear in her, and she allows herself to place the gun on the little stool-like table that is next to the door. As she turns to lock the door, she spies movement in the corner of her eye. Quickly, she positions herself into combat mode, minus the gun on the table.

There's someone in her apartment, someone standing a few metres away from her, a rifle in his hands. Before she has time to gasp, barely only recognising that the someone is in fact a Hessian (the tattooed mark on his forehead gives him away) , sharp pain erupts from somewhere in her body. She didn't hear the shot being fired, she didn't see the gun being pointed at her, all she did see, when she looked down her body to see where the pain was coming from, was a blood oozing from somewhere-where?-before she was falling, and her eyes closing.


	2. Chapter 2

Her eyes are open now, but she'd been dreaming. She isn't sure if she was asleep or if she was unconscious, just that she'd been dreaming. In the dream, she was carrying a sack, and it was weighing her down. Now that she's awake, she registers a pain, not exactly sure where it's coming from. It takes her lifting her head to realise that the pain is coming from her shoulder. It's more of a sting than anything, the kind she's previously felt from a snake bite and a gunshot. Neither feel better after some time. She's been shot, she realises.

She's a police officer for the majority of the time, making her naturally reflexive to anything out of the ordinary, so when the reason she's hurting physically doesn't come to her, she gathers herself up into a sitting position. At first, she doesn't recognise her surroundings, her eyes are looking, but they're taking nothing in (thanks to the pain coming from her shoulder).

'I'm so glad you are finally awake,' a voice she doesn't recognise speaks, 'I was afraid I'd have to shock you out of your slumber.' She can't see anyone, which makes her think that she's hearing the voice in her head, or likely dreaming. Willing herself to concentrate, she looks around the place, forcing herself to recognise anything, to take all she can into her head so she can organise it. That is after all how it works, in the event she's rescued (if she is indeed held captive), she'd have to give a detailed account of the place she was held in. It looks familiar, like she's been here before, no, more like she's a frequenter to the place, because if she closes her eyes (and she does), she can tell what stands where, the colour, everything. Abbie opens her eyes quickly, her brain having sent an urgent message to her. She's in her very own apartment, how could she have missed it?

'Stand up Grace.' The voice tells her. She still can't see the owner of the voice, but judging from the calm way it speaks, she isn't imagining it.

'Come now,' the voice continues to urge, 'let's not waste the precious time we have. I said arise.' Without really thinking that she is doing it, Abbie gets up from the floor, the pain in her shoulder not making it any easier for her. She wishes the stinging would stop, and more importantly, she wishes she would remember what happened before now, what got her shot, and why.

'Who's there?' she asks, her voice a little shaky, not necessarily out of fear than uncertainty and confusion. She revolves a little on the spot to see who the voice belongs to. On her immediate left, leaning against the tall bookshelf she keeps all her newspapers stacked in, is a lanky man dressed in a slightly mahogany-coloured overall. No wonder she didn't see him in the beginning, he blends in well with the bookshelf. He's a Hessian, one clearly not afraid to parade it about, otherwise he would've had the mark somewhere else, not his forehead.

The man notices that she can see him now, 'I'm assuming you want my name...that's not the matter Grace.' He doesn't move from the bookshelf, nor does he point the rifle in his hand at her. Abbie tries hard to recall what happened, where her gun is, nothing comes to her, 'What do you want?' she looks the man straight into his eyes.

'You'll find out soon enough,' he answers, 'For now, we're leaving. You're coming with me.'

'I'm not going anywhere,' she tells him.

'I will shoot you again,' he says it casually, like they are discussing baseball teams, 'and drag you out of here. Or you can get your keys right now, and follow me.' He isn't joking, Abbie just knows he isn't.

'What do you want?' she asks again, this time, a fear ignites in her, she isn't so confident anymore, not that she was before, but it's worse now. The man lifts his rifle as he begins walking to her, 'Take off your jacket,' he instructs, and she does as she's told, 'You're leaving it behind. Now get your keys, and walk out. Now.'

She's already wounded, disobedience on her part will only get her more wounded, if not killed, she complies, her pain half forgotten for fear. She's not sure she really feels it anymore, besides, she knows just as well as anyone that shoulder wounds don't kill, not for the first three hours they don't.

'I'm right behind you,' he warns, his rifle still very pointed at her, 'Anything at all, and I kill whoever gets in my way. Go,' her inclines his head to the door. Breathing rapidly, Abbie turns around, walks to the door cautiously in fear of being heard by anyone (and briefly remembering that her phone is in her jacket), and turns the keys in the lock quietly, but quickly. Before she steps out of the apartment, she looks up and down the hallway for any sign of life, when she finds none, she moves out of her home, taking the keys with her. The Hessian man follows close behind her.

'Lock it,' he orders calmly. When she does, he points his rifle to the south of the corridor, 'Walk.'

At this point Abbie really doesn't need to be threatened anymore, she guesses that's why he isn't pointing the rifle at her, or telling her not to alarm anyone. There's absolutely no way of getting out of this one.


	3. Chapter 3

'Get in,' the Hessian orders Abbie. They've walked all the way to her car. Not one person did they come across in the two and half minutes they walked from her apartment. Abbie can't stop thanking no one in particular (perhaps the one she always prayed to) for that, she wouldn't bear it if innocent people got hurt because of her, for the reason that she is a Witness against evil in these abnormal days-for her and Crane, and Irving, and Jenny anyway. Abbie just stands, turning to face him.

'Grace,' he says her name slowly, 'don't make this difficult. There's no one around to save you. This will happen whether you like it or not.'

It's dark, so dark that if someone were watching, they'd do so unnoticed. But of course if someone were watching, they wouldn't see anything suspicious. They'd see two people, one of whom is a police officer, and another carrying a big gun in the presence of said police officer, that wouldn't call anyone's attention. She hits herself mentally for developing a little hope that would get her nowhere, like she'd thought before, there truly isn't a way out of this. Giving in, she pulls out her car keys from her jean pocket. The Hessian places his hand on the lock to prevent her from inserting the key.

'Let's be clear,' he starts, 'you do as I say, when I say it, and exactly as I say it. First, we get in the car, then I patch up your shoulder.'

Her shoulder. She's completely forgotten about her shoulder, clearly she's more afraid than she realises, for it can only be that, that rubs out that she's in pain. Unconsciously, she brings her hand to touch her wounded part. She nods.

'Good,' he releases his hand from the spot, 'you're driving.' Abbie unlocks the car, and she climbs in the driver's seat. It's quite smart, she thinks to herself, that in this kidnapping, her kidnapper has thought through his plan. If anyone came looking for her, they'd find that her car wasn't home, and they'd write it off as an elective trip that she took, those kinds of things happened all the time. People who wanted to get away would leave their phones behind, so as not to be disturbed, and they'd come back after some days without a scratch to their bodies, she guesses now, that she will become a statistic, one of those people. Of course there's Crane who might grow suspicious of her absence, but if ever he did find her, it would probably be too late.

The Hessian walks around the car to the passenger's side, opening the door quite quickly, and getting in. They shut their doors together. Placing the rifle at his feet, the Hessian reaches inside his overalls, and comes out with a plain cloth, white in colour, and smaller than the average handkerchief. He reaches across to her, his torso leaning over the part that separates the passenger's seat from the driver's, both his hands coming to touch her shoulder. She flinches at his touch, his fingers are cold, or maybe she's just associating coldness with the Hessian, because he is that.

'Relax,' he tells her with a frown, 'I'm only doing you a favour.' She can't bring herself to trust him, he's a Hessian after all, their kind never has anything good to offer. Besides, he hasn't given her a reason to trust him. She does however reluctantly let him press the thin cloth to her wounded area. Miraculously, she feels the once forgotten pain fading away, like her flesh is coming together. When she looks to see what he's doing, he lets her go, leaning back into his own seat, but the cloth remains stuck to her, to the fabric of her top. She wonders if it had glue on it, but changes her mind about knowing, it will help nothing either way.

'Drive,' he commands, looking straight ahead. Abbie sticks the key in the ignition, turning it for the car to start.


	4. Chapter 4

It's long passed the hour that the good leftenant would usually arrive to collect him. He's grown very accustomed to the way she fit him into her life in the six months they've known each other. In the beginning, he didn't reject all the help she offered, because he had no other choice. The town he once knew so well had changed immensely, not to mention the way things were done. After some time, he came to know the village of the modern Sleepy Hollow well (all the credit belonged to evil), and could easily find his bearings around the place. Thus, he began refusing to be entirely dependent on the leftenant. She didn't respond when he let her know of his intentions of going around the town by himself, instead the next day, and the day after that, until it became their routine, she showed up on the cabin's porch ready to transport him into town. From then, before she arrived, he would wait outside for her arrival.

It is times as such, that he deeply regrets not accepting to own one of those smartphone devices the entire population seemed to require to live. Perhaps if he had one such a thing, the leftenant wouldn't be worried when she couldn't find him. And certainly, he would enquire of her whereabouts in this moment, what the reason for her delay could be. He begins to flex his fingers reflexively while staring out of the cabin window into the forest that lies before it. Any moment, he expects to see her transport pulling up, and she stepping out, taking measured steps to the cabin. When more than enough time to relieve oneself has passed however, his waiting turns to worry. It is too unlike the leftenant to be late in such a manner. He hadn't needed more than a week in her company to draw out all that she is, and who she isn't. He's worried because their lives are stirred into a heavily brewed pot of evil, ever threatening to end their journey of existence. He wonders now if an unfortunate tragedy has befallen her, rendering her unable to show up. Staring out into the forest, he decides, will not yield anything, neither will it make the leftenant instantaneously appear, instead, he will make good use of the perfectly able legs he has. Surely, the station is not that long a way away.

Ichabod leaves his post at the window, only rinsing his twitchy hands at the small sink below it. He will walk to the station, and if the leftenant were to come for him, she would find him in the way.

'Crane!'

He's hardly been in the station long enough to find shelter (from the unwelcoming eyes) in their hiding place, it perplexes him that his name can be called with such strengthy reproach before he's had the opportunity to even converse with anyone. He turns around to find himself face to face with the captain of the Sherriff's Department.

'Captain!' he is somewhat surprised to find that the captain's face is a bit more disapproving than usual.

'Where's Lieutenant Mills?' the captain asks, his voice close to bursting into a shout. Although the captain is well within reason to ask that very question, Ichabod doesn't understand why he is being asked it. After all, he and the leftenant do not reside in the same residence.

'The Leftenant is not here?' his arms go around his back. More than before at the cabin-because he'd convinced himself on his walk to the station that she would be there-his worry picks up.

'You mean she's not with you?' If the captain were made of rubber, he thinks, he would no doubt be inflating for the amount of emotion he is emitting.

'I thought that perhaps,' Ichabod tells him calmly, 'she might be here. Have you gone into the room you have put at our disposal?'

The captain leans his face close to Ichabod's, 'You two are inseparable,' he hisses, 'And now you say you don't know where she is?' Ichabod's hands clench behind him, 'Yes,' he nods. He can't confirm or deny the inseparable part, as they are only ever in each other's company when it is necessary (and sometimes when it wasn't). The other man looks around the station, his eyes flying from here to there, and back, 'Come with me,' he tells Ichabod. Sparing a look behind him, Ichabod follows the commanding officer. They go down a long corridor, the man in front of him walking in leaps. In comparison (unlike when he walked with the leftenant), his steps are even, measured. When they reach the room he and the leftenant work in, the captain's hand closes around the handle, pulling it back in attempt to open the door. It doesn't budge, which only further unimpresses him, 'She's not here. It's locked.'

Ichabod looks at him silently, the words he's supposed to say, he doesn't know.

'Crane!' Captain Irving demands. It's infuriating, Ichabod thinks, that the man before him believes he has any idea where the young officer might be.

'Sir,' he begins, 'she did not come to collect me this morning. The last I saw of her, was yesterday when she took me home.'

'Find her! I don't care what you have to do, just do it!'

'If I may sir-' Ichabod tries.

'I need her as in two weeks ago Crane. I don't have time to explain why. Just find her!' The captain stalks off angrily, leaving Ichabod uncertain of how he feels. On the one hand, he doesn't know where to begin looking for the lady officer, and on the other, he feels a great irritation towards the man for insisting, yet not giving him the chance to speak. The matter at hand however, is the more pressing than his feelings, the unknown location of his female partner. Things would surely be easier if he had a communicating-

'Captain!' Ichabod doesn't let the idea pass him by. The other man is more than far away from him, but he stops anyway. Ichabod rushes to him.

'I wondering,' he says to the captain, 'could I use your..?' he lifts a hand to his ear in a poor imitation of a phone pressed to an ear. The captain looks at him stonily.

'To contact Leftenant Mills,' Ichabod explains. A tilt of the head from the slightly shorter man (which he understands to mean he should follow), leads Ichabod to once again walk with him.

'And also,' he looks at the captain, 'if you could...make the contact for me.'

'You mean to say,' Captain Irving stops abruptly, 'you don't have her number? All this time?' Ichabod doesn't respond, because if he does, he's certain the other man will explode in disbelief at the little Ichabod did accept from this century.

'The Leftenant and I,' he says to the captain, 'have far more pressing matters on a daily basis-' The captain's face bears the resemble of boredom.

'I really don't care. I do care that she shows up,' he cuts Ichabod short, 'I'll give you two hours to find her.' Ichabod blinks and nods. The time might not be sufficient, but he'll try anyway. He follows the leading man down the corridor, and they disappear around a corner to Captain Irving's office.


	5. Chapter 5

She's driven all night. It's the early morning hours, just after the sun has risen. For most of the part, she doesn't know where she's driving, she lost track about an hour after she'd started. One thing she does know, is that she isn't in Sleepy Hollow, wherever they are, it's outside Sleepy Hollow, although she doesn't remember road signs informing her where she is headed. And her Hessian companion hasn't said words other than those telling her where to make a turn or how fast to drive, not that she's complaining, but her life with Crane, has gotten her accustomed to ceaseless talking, and questions. With a sudden pang to her heart, she notes that she might never see him again, or her sister, that she'd die, and they'd have no idea what became of her. She's never had a friend such as Crane before, nor has she known a man like him before. Loyal and bound by the ties of good and justice. Most of the men Abbie has come across, are only loyal as long as it suits them, and they are cowardly, hiding behind characteristics that aren't really them. She has all the trust in him. It's strange now that she has the chance to think about it, it hadn't taken that long to trust him, and constantly, she found herself telling him the truth of what happened when he asked her, brushing him aside never occurred to her. More than Corbin had been, Crane is a friend more than another, she's glad her brief time as a Witness was spent with him by her side, she wouldn't have carried on with any other random person.

'You see that tree?' The Hessian speaks after the long period of silence, he's pointing ahead of them. Abbie sees the tree, or rather, she sees a clump of trees, so she doesn't answer. It's not exactly a forest she's looking at, but if he expects that she knows which tree he means, he's mistaken, they are all alike to her. On the right side of road, is a tiny island of trees. The striking thing about it, is that for the rest of the side of the road, left and right, only a savannah is visible, except for that particular spot.

'Turn there,' he says. This time Abbie cannot remain quiet, she has no idea what tree he means, 'You realise those trees are the same?' she casts a sideways glance at him.

'The one in the middle,' he tells her. She looks at the trees again, their distance to the trees closer than a minute ago, but the 'middle tree' she still can't see. The arrangement of the trees is all mixed up, part scalene triangle, part rhombus, she can't tell which side she's supposed to see the 'middle' tree from.

'Middle?' she asks him, slowing the car down. The Hessian sighs in exasperation, 'Stop the car, and get out.' She doesn't. She's afraid, but she won't let him dictate her life until death, especially when what he is saying doesn't make sense, isn't clear.

'What for? Are you killing me there?' she keeps driving at a slow pace.

'No Grace,' the Hessian turns fully in his seat, 'I'm not going to kill you. You are not dying for a while if you must know. You see, there's a plan for you. Get out of the car.' As soon as he's done talking, he opens his doors, and steps out, not bothering to wait for the car to come to a halt.

There's a plan for you, Abbie repeats in her head, there's something she's never heard before, she thinks sarcastically. Why is it that everyone, demons and people alike, have a plan for her life, when her own plan for her life ran away half a year ago? She stops the car abruptly, since she's not going to die, she might as well do as she's told. Securing the key in her pocket, she steps out after the Hessian, but not before noticing that he's left his rifle behind.

'Hurry up,' he calls to her. He doesn't have a menacing voice or the creepily quiet tones the Hessians she's dealt with before do, his is normal, belonging to the guy who's a cashier for a living.

'Where are we?' she takes huge steps to the Hessian. He doesn't wait for her, instead, he continues to walk to the trees.

'Hey,' she calls to him, as she nears him, 'Where are we?'

The man in front of her spins around to her, 'Grace,' he calls her name, 'stop talking. Follow me in silence,' then he continues to walk, she stops. Abbie wants to say something, she wants to throw as many words to him, but she stops herself. As 'normal' is this abduction appears to be, it's still an abduction, and he isn't her friend, neither is he a good guy, in the end, he will do her harm, that much she's sure of.

'Come,' he calls over his shoulder. Abbie weighs her options. She can either run back to the car, start the car, and drive off, or she can follow him. The first, might prove to be more of a task then not, he is a Hessian after all, who knows what kind of tricks and demons they have up their sleeves. She opts for the second, it might very well save her life. The hope that it might, is microscopically minimal. Taking rough rushed steps, is the only way she can keep up with him, when she does catch up with him, he's in the middle of the trees.

'Not that I'm complaining, because this place is...ideal...but, what are we doing here?' She looks around for anything that could be significant, that will help her later on. A memory of Crane comes to here. He once taught her how to find bearings in the woods. The Hessian man begins taking steps back and forth in a random order, this way, then that, then a little to that way, he makes no contact with anything, 'One more word,' he says between his pacing, 'and I will hit you. Test me.'

I'd rather not, Abbie thinks angrily, her arms crossing over her chest. She's already been shot, she won't be hit on top of that. The gunshot, she remembers the cloth on her shoulder, it's truly amazing that she can't feel a thing.

'We've arrived,' he announces to her. Where exactly they've arrived, she doesn't know, what she does know is that they haven't moved from the place they have been in, not even a footstep away. As though to let her know where they've arrived, he presses both his palms to the tree trunk closest to him. Immediately, that tree splays, de-rooting from its original home. Where it stood, a narrow opening can be seen.

'You first,' the Hessian orders. Without thinking to argue (mostly, because curiosity has taken over), Abbie walks to the edge of the opening, she looks at the Hessian, then down into the tunnel like opening.

'You. In. Now,' he orders.

She expected it to be slimy, in all honesty, she had been rooting for the entrance to be a gateway to the home of an anaconda, the narrowness of it. It's not slimy, a little smelly, something like mould and dust, and oddly, leather, but not slimy. Along the walls are flame torches that illuminate enough to reveal the path ahead, and inscriptions on the wall. She doesn't recognise the language, and she won't ask for fear of being hit by the Hessian behind her. Especially now, she can't afford to be knocked out, she needs to keep her eyes open to all details, in the fractional chance that she does make an escape. They don't meet anyone along the way, it's just him and her, the two of them walking. Finally, after what seems like a whole hour, she and the Hessian arrive at a door. Shocking red in colour, it can be likened to the nail polish Tessa from her apartment building always wears. Stepping from behind her, the Hessian closes his hand around the handle, and pushes it open.

The sight that meets Abbie's eyes, as she moves to get a better look into the room (neither her, nor the Hessian have stepped into it yet), is, to put it accurately, amazing. The room is oval, styled like something she'd seen in an old book Crane had shown her, if she had to guess the design, she'd date it back to the time of Plato, or maybe not, she's not really good with that kind of thing. Each bent in the room has a different coloured and angled light, that meets the rest in the centre of the room in a square. It's impossible to understand how they created that to be as it is, it must've taken a lot of experts to put the room together. Along the left side, her left side, are three identical lampposts, equal in length, while in the spaces between the lampposts, stand stool-like pedestals, very light in colour compared to everything else in the room. Abbie decides that if this is a Hessian place, they have a thing for colour, and they aren't bad in style either.

'Step in,' the Hessian speaks, breaking Abbie from her thoughts, and keeping her from inspecting the rest of the room. Still in great awe, she walks into the oval room. He steps in after her.

'What is this place?' she can't stop herself from asking, the room really amazes her.

'This?' he peers at her, 'This Grace, is...let's just call it a brooder.' He finishes with a sinister smile.

'Into chicken farming are you?' Abbie can't help herself.

'Actually,' the Hessian man turns to face her full on, 'this room, was constructed just for you.'

He's not joking, his tone gives that much away. She struggles between looking at the man before her, and looking around the room more.

'What?' she frowns in confusion.

'Welcome to your new home Grace,' he tells her.


	6. Chapter 6

She didn't pick up her phone. It kept ringing, and ringing, but her voice didn't sound on the other end, when it did though, she didn't give him a chance to speak, she, in a rush told him that she wasn't available and he should leave a message. The captain explained to him, after Ichabod'd narrated it to him, that the Leftenant didn't actually answer, but rather, that was a voicemail introduction, a personal greeting. He didn't care to learn what that meant.

'Captain,' he'd said quietly, 'the Leftenant is never without her smartphone. Do you think something has happened to her?'

'Voicemail doesn't mean she doesn't have it with her,' the commanding officer told him, 'She could simply be avoiding calls.'

'But sir-' he tries. He wants to argue that perhaps something has happened to his partner, with the evil lurking in Sleepy Hollow, anything is possible, especially for them, the two Witnesses.

'Crane!' Captain Irving stops him, 'Your job, is finding Lieutenant Mills. Get out of my office, and find her.'

That was nearly fifty minutes ago. Ichabod has gone to every place he thinks she could be, places that she'd taken him to, and presented as liking them for A and B. No luck in finding her in any of those places came to him, and no one who worked at said places has seen her today either. He's grown increasingly worried since. Abigail Mills is no irresponsible woman, she doesn't do reckless things without a valid reason. Her absence can only mean one of two things, either Moloch has her in his grasp as he wanted, or she's dead. An abruptly harsh alternative, but possibly true nonetheless. He prefers to think that the first is the reason for her disappearance, that way, he has the hope of rescuing her. But if it isn't...well, that would be most unfortunate. He would lose a great friend, the only one who's accepted him into her world without question. Yes, it would be tragic, and he's not all certain he would continue their work on his own. Losing Katrina is still fresh in his mind, he can't lose another person again.

Fortunately, he's been to her home plenty. It's the place he's decided to search last. Homes, to anyone really, are a sanctuary, it would make perfect sense if she's in her home. She's long been craving for a day off, perhaps, she's given herself one.

He raps lightly on the door, putting his hands behind him in waiting. No answer comes from within, so he tries again. Still nothing. Several more knocks, and still nothing. He feels worry upon his previous worry. Surely, she isn't purposefully choosing to discount visitors as well.

'Leftenant?' he calls into the door, hoping she can hear him, 'It is I, Ichabod Crane, your Witnessing partner,' he snickers at his own introduction, she would find that foolish no doubt.

'Leftenant?' he tries again when he's paused for some seconds, and no reply has come. He looks at the door handle, it looks just like any other, especially of the kind she's excellently gifted at breaking into. He has never tried it himself, digging into a lock, and he isn't particularly anxious to break into the home of his friend, but desperate times...

Ichabod fiddles with the door a little, hoping that she will come out, before he uses whatever means to enter into her home without permission. A moment later, and nothing of what he wants happens, Ichabod extracts the tiny pin that he keeps fastened inside his coat for no reason at all, until now. It's a tricky thing, picking a lock with a tiny pin, he concentrates all his energy into doing it right. Some seconds into beginning, the lock sounds a little click, a sign that he has succeeded in unlocking it.

'Well Ichabod,' he almost wants to pat himself on the back, 'it seems you have well mastered the art of delinquency.' Cautiously, he opens the door (a large part of him expects for the Leftenant to come out) and steps in. The first thing that hits him is how cold it is in Abbie's home, it's never this cold. It also smells faintly of something alien to his smelling sense.

'Abbie?' he walks further inside. One more step, then he sees the jacket she was wearing the day before, looking like it has been discarded, not removed. Suspicions arising greatly, Ichabod takes hold of the jacket in his hand, only to see a hole in the shoulder, and...is that blood? Bringing the item to his nose, he inhales to confirm that it indeed is blood on the jacket.

'Abbie?' he shouts out loud. This can't be good, his feelings are never wrong, and right now, they are telling him that something is very wrong. Choosing his feelings, Ichabod goes into every room in the apartment looking to find Abbie. He doesn't find her, even after looking a second time, and a third. She's nowhere to be found in her apartment. Feeling a mighty compression to his heart, he presses her jacket (having never let it go) in his hands. He feels something hard in one of the pockets.

It's her ghastly smartphone, he realises when he removes it. She's left it behind. Nothing could be more proof that something happened to her. It's ghastly, he thinks in irritation as he struggles to slide it unlocked, and when he does, he can't find the captain's details. He must contact him at once.

'Aha!' comes his triumphant exclaim at having found the details at last, 'Now to call the good captain.'

_**So, so, so, so, sorry I'm dragging this out, but someone once said to me that they really couldn't keep up with what I wrote, and they wanted tons of clarity. I need to be super clear with this, because I really don't want to mess this up, because it's not my story. And the next time I update, I'll give a little more than two short chapters. So hang in there just a tad more.**_


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter will be a little rushed and straightforward, but I hope it's good enough anyway (I can dream, can't I) for you to like. And, and, and, about the 'leftenant' word, there's not a soul that doesn't know that there really isn't such a word, it just makes for an easier read. Everytime I read a fic with the word 'lieutenant', I have to remember to pronounce it the way Ichabod does, instead of right off just reading it that way.**

**Just getting that out, even if it is millenniums later...**

Home? The word is right on her tongue, she badly wants to ask it, yet her mouth won't open. It must be a joke, because no way-considering how amazing she finds the room-is this room her home. She has a home, her own home, with her things, and her life, this is not her home, she doesn't even want it to be.

'I take it you have no complaints,' the Hessian looks at her. She has complaints, of course she has complaints, but really... Abbie can only stare at him in disbelief, of the many things she hasn't planned for her life, this is probably top of the list. Yes, kidnapped to live with Hessians in an underground lair, totally takes the cherry.

'Listen,' he frowns, 'there's an important mission in motion. I know you are scared, but let me tell you something right now. No one will find you, no one will rescue you. You will remain here to do as you are required to do.'

'And what is that?'

'Fortunately,' the man takes a look at his watch, 'you don't have to wait that long to find out. Just minutes now. Like I said Grace, the mission is already in motion, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.'

'Why am I so important to your mission?' she wants to know. If she thought she couldn't get any more frightened than she currently is, her racing heart is contrary proof. She's petrified, she's not sure if it shows, or if he's assuming that she is, but she is, and the Hessian knows it.

'If you wait,' he tells her, 'and you will. Meister will be with you soon, and explain everything.' A beep sounds after the Hessian's last word. Abbie looks at the door, it's still ajar from when they entered. Momentarily, she entertains the thought of making a run for it, going through the door, and dashing through the way in which they came. But, she thinks, if this 'Meister' is really coming, she'd likely bump into him (he'd no doubt be with an army), and there would end her great escape. Escaping, she decides right here and now, will have to wait for another day, maybe after she's dead, and her soul can leave the place.

Another beep follows, the kind that comes from a stopwatch. And another, then two more. When the next comes to Abbie's ears, there's a large Military looking man in the door. A gasp of surprise escapes her at the sudden appearance from nowhere of the man.

'Lukas,' the man in the door nods to the one next to Abbie.

'Meister,' the Hessian bows his head low, Abbie guesses it's a sign of respect. She also guesses the man in the door to be a Hessian, why else would Lukas refer to him as 'Meister' if he isn't one of them. There are no additional men with the so-called 'Meister', this gives her a little hope.

'And,' the man steps into the room one big step at a time, 'Grace,' he extends his hand to her.

'What do you want?' she asks him, unaware that she's taken a step back. Lukas and 'Meister' look at each other, the bigger of the two indicates with his head for Lukas to leave. Lukas does so at once, taking the door with him.

'Grace,' he steps to her, right until only a footstep separates them, Abbie doesn't move, she badly wants to, but she doesn't. When he reaches a hand to her, she thinks he's going to hit her, but he only removes the cloth attached to her top. Without warning, the stinging she felt earlier comes back to her, hitting her with terrible force that she nearly sags to her knees in agony.

'Does that hurt?' he asks in a normal tone, as though he's genuinely interested in knowing about her health.

'Good,' he says when she doesn't answer, only holding a hand to her shoulder, 'That's very good.'

'Who are you?' she asks through her pain, it's almost like the pain has been amped to maximum, 'What do you want with me?'

The man begins to walk around her carefully, 'Because you are asking, I will tell you. My name is Gerald, and here,' he pulls a sleeve back to reveal the Hessian mark on his wrist, 'you can see that I'm Hessian. No need for introductions on that part. So, to the point,' he continues his pacing, 'We need your, I believe it's called a uterus...anyhow, we need that to bring into this world a prince, the son of a god. Apophis. Are you familiar with him?' He doesn't wait for an answer, 'The matter Grace, you are the only one who can carry our prince, because as you must know, you possess a specialty that few have ever since the beginning of time. You had to be shot for the benefit of the implantation process. The wound weakens your immune system, and your body has less chance of fighting, and rejecting the implantation. Make no mistake Grace, you will go through the implantation. In this very room in fact, it was designed just for you. Lukas and the rest of the team are preparing for the implantation as we speak. There is no time to waste Grace, this must be done now. Questions?' he stops walking around her. In truth, she didn't notice that he was walking around her the whole time he spoke to her, she was too busy watching his words in her head, as he spoke, the words were literally floating about in her head.

'None?' he smiles, 'Good. Prepare yourself, for there is absolutely no way around this. I'll give you a minute to adjust.' He walks to the door, turning back once his hand is around the handle, 'Oh, and please be comfortable.' She watches him disappear behind the door, her mind buzzing slightly. She has to arrange what he just told her. She, Abigail Mills, is going to have a baby? She is going to be a mother? To someone, or something that she's never heard of? Very likely an evil creature? Okay, that isn't so scary, not at all, it's terrorising.

**Random note: I speak no German, but I was learning the UEFA's (Champion's League I think? Yeah, I watch no football, I just adore the anthem/theme) anthem some days ago, and it has 'Meister' in it, and the translation is 'Master' in English, but I didn't want to be like 'Master', and Hessians are German so...**


	8. Chapter 8

'None of the neighbours have seen anything, not since yesterday,' Captain Irving tells Ichabod, his face is grim, bearing worry wrinkles. Looking at the man, Ichabod realises that Abbie isn't only important to him alone. Himself and the Captain entered into the life of the Leftenant at around the same time, it's not all that surprising that he too harbours feelings of protection and special comradeship.

'No one at all?' Ichabod looks around to the many police officers scattered in Abbie's home. He feels they are intruding her private place, as they search for clues, and evidence everywhere. He doesn't at all appreciate it, and he has the biggest feeling that neither would she.

The Captain shakes his head, his face not changing in the least. Since the phone call Ichabod made to him hours ago, he hasn't been fully been able to relax, because he like Ichabod, and Abbie's sister Jenny, know of the unnatural that resides in Sleepy Hollow.

'I wish there was just one,' he confesses, 'but there's not a trace, not here, not anywhere.'

'She couldn't simply have disappeared without a trace,' Ichabod reasons more with himself than the Captain before him. As soon as the extended team of police officers had shown up (including a flaming Luke Morales), he requested a word with the Captain, insisting on the early release of Jenny from the institution for the sake of helping them find her sister.

'Hey guys,' Jenny comes in through the door, making her appearance only now, 'I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier. The person in charge of the paperwork was nowhere to be found in for the last hours...anyway, have you found anything?' She's sporting a knapsack on her shoulder, and she appears to have run a great deal to the scene.

'Miss Jenny,' Ichabod acknowledges her presence with a small nod.

Captain Irving skips to the matter, 'No. Nothing.' Then seeing the falling look on the young lady's face, he adds, 'I'm sorry.'

'Do you have any idea who could've taken her?' she's asking Ichabod, but he feels a little accused, as though her disappearance is his fault. To be honest, he has blamed himself quite a few in the time he was by himself, he after all, brought this strange world into her life.

'We do not know for certain that she has been taken,' Ichabod tries to ease her worry, he cannot imagine what it must be like for her, 'Perhaps, she took some time off.'

'Do you know my sister at all?' Jenny asks him, her eyes going around to the many people in the apartment, 'How long have you guys been here?' she looks at the Captain.

'Some hours,' he tells her.

'And you found nothing? What about her car?'

'We are waiting,' Captain Irving tells her, 'for GPS location. It hasn't been an easy day, not one bit.' The sentence seems to drain the commanding man, both Ichabod and Jenny see it clearly.

'Are you okay?' Jenny asks in concern, her face softening.

Irving sighs heavily, burying his hands deeps into his pockets, 'When will it end?' None of the three know the answer to that, all Ichabod knows, is that without Abbie, their fight will become harder, and their losing, easier. Before anyone can speak again, a voice from the other side of the room calls loudly, 'Captain! We have word on the location of Lieutenant Mills' car.' It's an officer Ichabod isn't very familiar with, in fact half the people in the apartment, he's never seen before, if he has, he's made a point of not remembering them. Except Luke Morales, who hasn't stopped staring at Ichabod heatedly. Ichabod has no doubt that the man blames him for the unknown whereabouts of Abbie.

At the statement, the three of the rush over to the other side.

**I know I said I'd update more than two chapters, but I haven't completed the next chapter. So please forgive me.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm truly sorry that it has taken me this long to update. It's just, well, you know...I don't really function without inspiration. I haven't read a good Abbie and Ichabod story in ages, I just wish someone would create something I'd love. Anyway, I'm sorry this has taken long, and I'm also sorry because it's quite poor. I've just been indulging in writing other fics that I won't post, so that's why. Sorry again. I do promise this story will be done before February is over.**

It hasn't been two seconds since the 'Meister' left her in there, and he's back already. He's back, with Lukas, and three more men. She hasn't 'adjusted' as he wanted her to have done, she hasn't even moved a muscle since he left, and now he's back. This is really happening, she is going to become a mother to something alien and unwanted. Is there really no way out of this? The only thing that she has adjusted into however, is the pain from the gunshot, that isn't a problem for her anymore.

'Grace,' the Meister steps to her the same way he did before, 'It is time.' One would swear, by the way he spoke, that this is a consensual thing, that Abbie has given her full approval on the subject. She hasn't, just as she hasn't been raped, be she feels like she's about to experience it, not physically of course. The other men enclose her in the middle of them. She can't make up her mind who to keep her eyes on, she wants to see all their faces, but their bald heads, shining with the coloured light in the room distract her. All of them, including Lukas (when did he get the chance to change from his overall?), are dressed in the Hessian uniform she's used to, the red old military uniform. Not that she wasn't plenty dreadful before, but the closing in of the Hessians on her, brings in a new dread, she's not sure there's any part of her that isn't trembling. She feels ready to faint, sweat wetting her skin.

'For what?' she forces herself to look at 'Meister', 'Time for what?'

'Sieze her,' the leader of the Hessians announces. She can't protest, not when eight pairs of arms have got a strong hold on different parts of her body already. A pair on either leg, and a pair on her arms. They carry her away to the other side of the room, the side she didn't get time to inspect. The strength to fight them doesn't surface, because deep inside her heart, she knows that she has surrendered, there is nothing that can be done against them. This is the end of her life.

Carefully, they place her on her back inside something, she knows this by the way she is confined, only able to move slightly. She isn't afraid of closed places, she's not one of those people who have irrational fears, but she feels such a dread at being in whatever she is, that she believes she will pass out. Because that's what people in the movies did right? They passed out when they couldn't handle it anymore? Well, she's past her tolerance, not much more is she able to take.

She hears the men talking in hushed tones in German to each other, every sentence beginning where the other ended, there was no time for breaks in between their words. Her eyes are closed, for the reason of fear, she's never been afraid as she is now.

'Grace,' the voice of the German leader comes to her ears. She wills herself no to open her eyes, she particularly doesn't want to see what she's in.

'Grace,' he repeats again when she doesn't react the first time, 'I'm glad you aren't fighting, because now, the beautiful part begins.' Still she doesn't open her eyes.

'Dr. Klein has just arrived. I think you'll be pleased to know that he is very experienced and will in no way do you harm, so please relax.' Abbie feels a hand grazing her cheek, instinctively, her eyes open. The leader smiles wicked at her, 'There is nothing you can do now. You see what you are in? This very sarcophagus was handmade by Apophis himself. You see, long ago, Apophis wanted to imprison Ra in Duat, so that he would never escape. Unfortunately, his creation was stolen by Set who used it to trap Horace instead so that Egypt would be at his mercy. Long story short, if Horace, a powerful god could not escape, neither will you. And believe this dear, it is very adapt for one in an expecting position. You will be bearing a descendant of Apophis, the condition in there is just right for him to mature quickly. And finally, the world will meet the power that is us!' He finishes with a great smile, evidently proud of all that he's spoken. To Abbie, he is a disturbed man, hiding behind a cool and calm exterior. She can only eye him loathingly, nothing more will do. If what he is saying is true, and oh how she believes it is, she's not only to bear a demon child, but she's to do it in a stone coffin, confined in it. Well, she thought things couldn't get worse.

'Grace,' a voice calls her name. She doesn't recognise, it has only been two minutes if many, that Meister spoke to her, so she opens her eyes again. Looming over her is an extremely pale man with dark (black possibly) hair, and eyes.

'I am Dr. Klein, I will be responsible for the process. Not to waste much time,' he tells her, 'that wound will stop being an issue to you, and your system will have accepted it, and our plan will not go accordingly. So sit up my dear.' He's very calm about it, talking to her.

'Grace,' he sighs, Abbie hasn't done as he's asked, she's too everything to do anything, 'sit up. As a police officer I'm sure you know how the lethal injection works? This is similar, the difference being; it's not lethal what I'm going to do here.'

Unaware that she's doing so, Abbie scoffs. It isn't lethal huh? Demons must be fluffier than rabbits.

'Very well,' he reaches into the sarcophagus to pull out, 'I will do everything myself.' Sure enough, he makes her sit up.

'I will inject you four times,' he narrates, 'The first injection, is to make you drowsy.' The moment the words have left his mouth, she feels a needle digging into her skin, and the unwelcome sensation that follows liquid being injected into the muscles.

'And the second,' Dr. Klein continues, Abbie already feel ready to sleep, 'is to numb you.' Again, the end of his sentence is followed by an injection.

'The third, is the real winner, and,' he wave a syringe in her face, 'it goes into your neck.' Abbie wants to protest, she can't, she can't even feel her tongue.

'Patience dear,' the doctor advices, 'it'll be over now. The last, is to put you to sleep. Maybe when you're awake, we can talk about why I had to inject you so many times. Or we could talk baseball. I'm a Mets fan, how about you Grace?'

The last part of his sentence sounded like he was standing oceans away from her. Of course, Abbie realises, the numbing injection that she didn't feel, and the one that's to put her to sleep. She's falling asleep against her will.


	10. Chapter 10

In an oval room, a group of twelve men is seated around a long rectangular table, six on either side, and one standing on the one end of the table. Before the men, lie open thick books that show a picture of a woman standing over another woman who is heavy laden with pregnancy.

'Comrades,' the standing man starts to address them, 'we have a matter to discuss.' He waits in silence for all their attention. With a seriously strict military background, he doesn't tolerate interruption in the slightest, even the turning of a page will rile him up terribly, and with him as this mission's leader, he fears he will kill more associates for impatience. They don't know each other, but they were summoned to work singularly-abandoning their other lives-on the project at hand. Before everyone has settled, and he can continue talking, the door to the room opens, revealing yet another man. The difference with the new man, is that he, unlike them, isn't dressed in a uniform.

'Dr. Klein,' the leading man nods to the one who has just entered the room.

'Meister,' Dr. Klein nods back, 'Pardon my tardiness. Grace took more time than I imagined.'

'Sit down,' Meister waves his excuse away, 'we are about to discuss Grace.' The doctor takes a seat at the table.

'Now, as I was saying comrades,' he continues, 'you are aware of how parts of the Hessian tradition derive from the Egyptian royalty. Before you, in the book, you see Tefnut, a goddess, watching over a mortal about to be in labour. This, my fellow comrades, is much like our Grace today.'

'Meister?' one of the seated men raises his hand, the Meister nods for him to speak, 'Is Grace destined to be a part of us?'

'Nein, Roger,' Meister answers, 'we simply require her womb. After she has borne us our prince, she will die.'

'And,' another raises his hand, 'how long will that be for?'

'Dr. Klein?' Meister hands the question over to the doctor.

'Uh,' the doctor begins hastily, having been caught off guard, 'uh, yes...uh...' he stands up.

'The usual period for a full term pregnancy is nine months. For humans that is. Grace is human, and her body is no different from those of other humans. However, the implantation wasn't standard procedure. As you know, I've only concocted a dead cell of Apophis and Grace's blood-a tiny drop-into sifted ashes and acid. The mixture with her blood, was to combine her with the cell, to ensure that rejection doesn't happen. The shot wound did weaken her immune system, but the human immune system has a way of fighting even when it's down, it attempts to correct the wrongs until it really just can't. I must admit that I have no idea how long it will take for the seed to mature to birthing, but I do know that her mood, helps in the maturity,' Dr. Klein takes his seat again, leaving the room silent. He's the only one of them all that fully understands the process.

'So,' Meister breaks the silence, his face looking fallen, 'Dr. Klein has explained, but as I was saying, about Tefnut...Grace needs to remain in the sarcophagus, she has to remain here for the duration of her pregnancy. Tefnut can watch over her here, anywhere else, it will be impossible. This is a delicate matter, Grace needs to be under observation.'

Lukas, the one who'd kidnapped Abbie stands, 'Meister, if I may ask, can she not return to her home?'

'For what reason?' Meister almost snaps, he thought he made himself clear.

'It's just, as I heard Dr. Klein talk, I thought it would be best if she went home. He said her mood helps in the maturity of the seed,' Lukas sits down again, but not before he has looked at the doctor.

'Dr. Klein,' Meister turns to the doctor, 'What did you mean by mood? Explain.'

'Well,' the doctor clears his throat, all the attention on him, 'the seed is of dark descent. Naturally, he would feed on all that is negative, the more negative she feels, the stronger he gets, and matures. Let's say Grace were angry the whole day, the seed would grow incredibly, and when she is happy, he's stagnant.'

'Lukas,' Meister speaks directly after the doctor has finished, 'keeping her here will ensure a less time to the birthing.' The leading man is tempted to throw a knife into the arm of Lukas.

'Meister,' Dr. Klein speaks, 'I think Lukas could have a point. Grace, knowing what she knows while she's surrounded by the people she loves will prove more effective, she will be in constant fear and hurt, and pain, because she can't tell them-'

'What about abortion?' another man interrupts the doctor, 'She can try that can't she?'

'And,' another one adds, 'she will obviously tell her people what is going on.'

'We need to keep her here,' on more man pipes in. This brings in a lot of mini arguments and discussions, Meister cannot take it.

'SILENCE!' he slaps his hand on the table, 'ENOUGH of this. We need the best course of action. This is important, nothing can go wrong. Comrades, let us discuss wisely what we ought to do.'

He isn't sure himself what they should do, what he does know is that his master doesn't take failure lightly. If they have to stay confederated in the oval room for three days, they will until they find the right action.

'Let us begin,' he takes a seat himself, 'Dr. Klein, talk to us.'


	11. Chapter 11

The location of the GPS led them to storage garage on the other side of town. It didn't take two minutes to give up on that lead, because the attendant in the storage garage informed them that his shift just began twenty minutes before they got there. Ichabod couldn't help wanting to strangle the young man for sounding so callous. They'd gone on to question the attendant who'd been on duty when the car was brought in, but he didn't have fruitful answers either. According to him, a man dropped it off claiming it to belong to his friend Abigail Mills who was leaving the country, and wouldn't be back for a month. When they asked him to describe the man, he sheepishly confessed that he wasn't wearing his contact lenses, because his eye had been twitching and he had to remove them, when he attempted to put them back inside his eyes, he lost one lens. It was unbelievable, the entire explanation. The only witness who could lead them to Abbie was no more helpful the the dog next door. That was an hour ago, since then, himself, Jenny and the captain, have retired to the precinct. In the room he and Abbie usually do their work in, Ichabod's guilt heightens, being in the place without her is terrible torture for him, there's no way around feeling the way he does, and in the centre of his mind, even though she doesn't mention it, he believes that Miss Jenny, like Luke, blames him for the disappearance of the leftenant. Well, at least he's not the only one who blames himself.

'Hey,' Miss Jenny calls to him. They are on different ends of the room, not indulging in anything but sitting and waiting.

'Miss Jenny?' he looks up.

'I know this must be hard for you,' she tells him in a soft voice, much like how Leftenant Mills would when they were discussing Katrina, 'I mean, you guys are like two peas or something...I just don't think you should blame yourself.'

This is a surprise for him, he didn't expect to hear such words from her, not ever, 'Don't you?' he asks in disbelief. He for certain thought she blamed him entirely for the disappearance of her sister.

'What?' her face screws in confusion, 'Why would I blame you? You had nothing to do with my sister missing.'

'I don't feel that way,' he finds himself involuntarily confessing, 'And neither does Luke.'

'And you care?' her eyebrows raise. Now that she's asked the question, he wonders if he really does mind how the other man thinks of him.

'I suppose I understand where's he's coming from,' Ichabod tells her, 'Were I him, I would blame myself too.'

Her arms cross over her chest, 'Why?' she asks.

'I should've known something would happen to her. And ultimately, had I not awakened, her life would've remained out of harm's way.'

'Oh my gosh, that is so last century...you do realise that Abbie and I saw Moloch when we were kids right? Or do you just like to feel important?'

That is certainly not the case, he doesn't like to feel important, on the contrary, 'Of course not Miss Jenny, I was only pointing out my reasons.' He feels a great guilt that he's not sure the young woman with him will understand if he began to talk about it. Before either of them can say another word however, the door into the room opens. Captain Irving appears.

'Mills,' he calls from the door, 'I hate to tell you this, but you need to file a missing person's report. It's been long enough.'

'Missing?' she asks quickly.

'Look,' he says, 'I don't like this more than you do, but we all care for Abbie...so yes, you have to report her missing.' Jenny nods, looking at Ichabod.

'Okay,' the captain nods a little, 'It has to be now. Both of you, come with me.' He doesn't wait for them to start moving, he walks out before they start towards the door.

'My sister missing,' Jenny begins walking, 'I never thought it would come to this.'

'I am so very sorry Miss Jenny,' Ichabod apologises as he too walks to the door.

Jenny gives him a weak smile, 'It's not your fault remember?'

She says it, but it doesn't ease his guilt any less than before, he is still adamant that it's all his doing that Abigail is nowhere to be found.


	12. Chapter 12

Doctor Klein explained all there was to explain about the condition of Grace, and Meister explained to his given team why they couldn't afford to fail. The rest of the members got a chance to say their say on the matter. In total, it took the men in the oval room three hours to calm down to pace they are now. All that is left, is the voting, voting for the best course of action, deciding how best to deal with the Grace situation without upsetting the plan.

'Comrades,' Meister stands up once again, after the long hours of sitting at the table, 'The fate of this offspring depends on the decision we make here tonight.'

They-the men in the room-belong to a body of command, that receives commands, and their master, the one top of the body, the head, he doesn't accept defeat, not from mortals. For the tenth time this evening, Meister finds himself ready to shoot all his comrades if they so much as oppose his decision. He was put in charge of this mission, whatever goes wrong, he will be the one to suffer the consequences, but then again, when they succeed, he will be rewarded the position of Most Trusted, that thought cheers him up more than anything. And for it, he decides to keep his head on (and his gun tucked away).

'Rules dictate that the majority vote wins...and as we have sat in this room for too long, I trust we have all listened well and chosen a side on which to fall. Let us not delay this any further.'

He starts to walk around the table, slowly passing by each of them men in silence. He is enjoying the tension he is creating in them with the walking and his silence, it makes him feel so much superior than he is. He knows just well as the next person that the next mission, another one of his comrades (perhaps present, perhaps not) would very well be deemed 'Meister', and he would have to fall under instruction.

'All those in favour of Grace remaining here with us,' he finally speaks, 'raise your left hand.' Three of the seated men raise up their hands, including Doctor Klein who was so set on deporting Grace from their private island during the three hours. Meister chooses to refrain from voicing his feelings. Even though the show of hands gave him his answer instantly, he still needs to ask the rest to vote.

'And all in favour of allowing Grace to leave here, and return to her home, raise your right hand.' The rest of the men pick up their hands, looking around to each other, no doubt to celebrate their victory. Meister sees the looks of triumph on their faces, and thinks within himself to crush their dreams just a little.

'Very well,' he drags, 'your voices have spoken. However, as commander of this mission, I hold a lot more authority on the matter than all of you combined, and so I decree that Grace remain here with us, heavily guarded for a fortnight. That is all I request comrades.' The man in charge makes his way back to his seat, giving the other men time to digest what he just said. Whispers starts to sound in the room, as the men turn to each other, discussing this new development.

Meister waits in silence, in truth, he isn't that keen on letting Grace go, but as he said, rules dictate...

After a good amount of time has passed, Meister stands up once more, 'Comrades? Have we reached a conclusion?'

'Yes,' one of the Hessian men answers, echo after echo following his answer.

'Good. Are we all in favour of keeping Grace here for a little while longer?' he asks, though he really already knows the answer to the question.

Again, 'yes' after 'yes' sounds in the room. Meister can't help the corners of his mouth turning upwards into a smile.

'Excellent. I know what to do...'

In the time it has taken his fellow partners to decide upon an answer, he's thought of the perfect plan to deal with Grace when the time was ripe.


	13. Chapter 13

He's exhausted all the ways he can to find her, himself and Jenny have done everything they could to bring her home, but to no avail. Everyone he's thought of for help couldn't tell them more than the previous person did. At this point, he really has no idea what to do, he's tried the Sin Eater, he's even tried Katrina, and the endless list of people she referred him to, but nothing. Everyday he went without finding her, he gave up a lot more hope of ever finding her. Some days, he went back to the storage garage to find out if Abigail Mills had come by to collect her car, the answer was always the same, 'No.' That word has become unwelcome in his world, everytime he hears it, he wants to smash something, hit anything with an axe. The eleven days without her whereabouts known to him, have been the longest he's ever known. The sun seemed to rise at an excruciating pace, and setting was the worst for him, because then he wouldn't be with Jenny, planning another way to find Abbie, he would be alone, and left to think how badly he's failed his friend, the only person who from day one, had given him a chance. She, unlike all the people, had believed him, everything he said, she believed. Of course, she wasn't willing to admit it at the time, but she believed him nonetheless, and she took him in, she crafted him into her life like they'd been friends from another life. The immense gratitude he had, has for her, cannot be painted with words alone. That is why he in this moment, as for the past eleven days, hates himself with a sore hatred for not doing all he could to find his friend, to bring her home.

He sits at the small table in the cabin, recalling the day he saw her last, he's done it so many times, trying to find a pattern, that it's as clear as sunlight in his mind. He's thought over and over how he could've done things differently, that instead of letting her go straight home that evening, he should've invited her in for coffee, as he sometimes did after a particularly long day. Had she stayed, he kept reasoning with himself, she wouldn't be missing right now, because she'd ask him to tell her about his life with Katrina, about the eighteenth century, about his upbringing, and they would talk until it was well and truly dark inside the cabin, then only she would go home. And not for the first time either, he blames only one person for her absence, himself. Tears prick inside his eyes as he thinks that she might be dead, he's not willing to accept that she's dead, that his dearest friend would never be back again.

It would be cruel, he thinks, flexing his slender fingers, for one Witness, the strongest of the both of them, to be dead, then really their work had no real meaning from the start. Has it been part of the plan all along for this to happen to them? Then surely evil will triumph, because even in all his cleverness, he needs her in the fight against evil, when he couldn't think of more ideas, she did the thinking until they reached a perfect result. He trusts Jenny, and together (along with the good Captain) they could stop the apocalypse too, but somehow, the bond he has with Abbie, allows the both of them more of everything; strength, power, courage, determination. However will he get that back now?

Ichabod gets up from the table for no reason at all, in truth, he's been sitting there since Jenny dropped him off a few hours back, when the sun was just beginning to set. He supposes he must go to bed now, to prepare himself for the next day, to continue with the search, yet he finds that tonight, all trace of physical weariness has left him, that no sleep plagues his eyes. He begins to pace about the cabin, thinking no continuous thoughts, where the one ends, another begins, he can't bring himself to dwell on a single thought tonight. In the past days, he's had the company of Jenny, and that has somewhat eased a fraction of his feelings, but tonight she's not with him. He doesn't blame her for wanting some time to herself, she's been comforting him all that time, and he never stopped to consider what it really must be like for her, the one who's sister is missing. If he, as a friend who's only known Abbie for a period of six months can feel so strongly about her disappearance, how much more Jenny, the sister? Ichabod realises that he's been as much selfish, as he is to blame for all that has gone wrong in Sleepy Hollow lately, it cuts deep that he has become this alien person. He wants to make things right, but at this hour, he has no way of getting to Jenny.

Just as starts thinking that he should walk back into town even at such an hour, a knock sounds on the cabin door. Startled a little at first, he only stands staring at the door. The knock sounds again, this time a little louder than before. It can't be evil, he thinks to himself, evil would barge in instead of knocking, so he entertains the thought that it's Jenny, and she has come bearing extremely good news. With this new hope, Ichabod rushes to get the keys, and inserts the keys into the lock hastily. In less than two seconds, he's unlocked both locks, and swings the door back quickly, unaware that on his face he is wearing a hopeful look.

It's not Jenny at the door.

'Abbie...' he whispers as blinks to clear his sight.


	14. Chapter 14

'Abbie...'

Ichabod cannot control his profuse blinking, he wants to stop, but he finds that he can't stop blinking the way he is. It's her, it really is her. The same short leftenant he's always worked with. She appears worn and defeated, but she's the same. He can't truly believe it's her.

'Hi,' she says weakly, producing a little smile. He thinks it's for his benefit, so that he doesn't worry or think something's the matter with her, surely that's not the case. Not when she shows up this late.

'Abbie...' is all that comes from his mouth. He's forgotten that they are in the entrance of the cabin, he's forgotten all he was thinking and all he knew before now.

'Am I coming in or what?' she asks in her normal voice. It nearly fools him, her calm manner, her tone, the way she's looking at him, nearly.

'Abigail,' he recovers upon seeing through the show she's putting on, he could always read her, 'Are you all right?' He wants only to know that. Abbie nods too immediately, too fast, 'I'm fine, but can I come in?'

'Oh,' Ichabod steps out of the way, 'of course. Of course, come in.' She does so quickly, but he doesn't miss the tiny look that she makes over her shoulder. He can't even begin to think how she is, how she must be feeling, what state she's truly in, so he doesn't think. Instead, he decides to embrace that she's here, to forget his shocked surprise. Ichabod closes the door behind her, turning the keys in the lock, still very unable to attach himself to one feeling, and one feeling alone. How is he actually supposed to react to this? Of course he's happy to see her, deep in his inside, he's happy to see her, and yet...there's a battle and at the same time a calm within him that he can't understand. Ichabod Crane, he thinks to himself, address one thing at a time, and progress from there.

'Abbie,' he faces her, having reached a decision within him, 'May I ask-?' He doesn't remember ever using her name so many times in one setting before, but in all fairness, it's not everyday he thinks she might be dead.

'Not now Crane,' she cuts through his sentence, 'I really just want to take a bath and sleep.'

'Leftenant,' he begins to argue (and she looks around the cabin in impatience), 'I must know what happened to you. I will not find rest until you tell me what happened, so please...'

'Crane,' she turns her attention back to him, 'look at me, I'm tired, it's whatever hour and I really just want to sleep. Please.' The last word she pronounces as a plea, and looking at her (finding nothing physically the matter with her), he realises how afraid she is. Her face is firmly set, but she's afraid, he can tell only by looking into the windows of her soul.

Reluctantly, he nods, 'All right. I shall allow you all that you wish.'

'Thank you,' she says in half tone, between tired and glad, 'I'll talk to you later I promise, just not now.'

'Of course,' he replies softly, but his very inside wants to shout out that he doesn't want to let it go, that he's much too unable to allow her what she wants. He knows something's not right with her, no matter what she tells him.

When Abbie starts turning away from him, he suddenly feels he's going to lose her again, that she will disappear and he might never see her again. A little subconsciously, he steps to her and envelopes her into a tight hug. Abbie remains limp in his embrace, but he doesn't mind, he also doesn't mind that he can sense that a sort of disapproval is coming from her, some sort of hesitancy.

'I'm so very happy to see you back.' He can feel how fast her heart is beating, and he chooses to ignore that too, passing it off to the fear he is certain she's feeling, but isn't saying.

'Crane,' she whines uncomfortably, using her hand to push him away from her, 'stop.' She looks up at him with an irritated expression, and he feels like he's just been rejected by a family member, it's not a very welcome feeling.

'I'm sorry,' her face softens instantly, 'I'm just so tired. I'm really sorry.' She looks like she means what she's saying, but he can't bring himself to accept it, something in him tells him that it's not entirely true that she didn't mean it.

'It's all right,' he finds himself lying, but stepping away from her, 'I will go prepare the bedroom for you.' Abbie nods in appreciation, her eyes closing, 'Thank you...I'm sorry for just showing up like this...'

'Do not bother yourself with explanation. We shall converse at another time. And you are always welcome here.' Giving him a last nod, and a small smile, Abbie turns from him and starts walking to the wash room. He watches her, the greatest feeling that somehow his friend is not the same any longer. Nothing gives that away, it's just his instincts, they tell him that something about her has changed.


	15. Chapter 15

**This chapter is sort of a filler, kind of, sort of...I tried fitting all that I thought I'd left out in the other chapters. Some things might still be very unclear to you though, but if I notice later on that I didn't explain all that I should've, I'll do it in the following chapters. Oh, and yes, there's a reason I don't ask people to comment (review), I mean I like comments and all, I just don't like anything negative, so please if you do not like the story or the chapters, just don't read it anymore, do not (I BEG, I BEG, I BEG) TELL ME you do not like it, or how much it sucks. [I have this phobia of someone telling me to give up writing, because I'm that terrible] I really do not want to read anything that says I should step up my writing, it's not very encouraging, other people may take it well, it just makes me feel bad, and that I should stop writing altogether. So, once again, if you do NOT like anything, don't leave a comment about it. I ONLY WANT the good ones, or nothing at all.**

In the moment she feels more agitation than she thought she would feel. Watching the water filling the bathtub, brings in a creeping anxiety that has nothing to do with the anxiety of before. It's nearly impossible how she feels anxiety for two different things, each lodging in its own place not crossing over to the other. She believed that in coming to the cabin instead of going home, she would feel less of it, because Crane would be in the cabin, and there's no one she trust more than him.

When he opened the door to find her standing there, she didn't mind his dumbfoundedness, for the reason that she never expected she would lay her eyes on him again herself. It was fine for the first two seconds, but when his stare became worry, confusion, and gladness all at once, she closed herself off. She didn't need all that from him, all she craved for in that moment, was shelter, from _them_, but it felt like she'd come to something worse. Crane is a man really unable to hide his emotions, and in that moment she hated it so much, that she had to pretend she wasn't feeling discomfort. His emotions out for the world to see, were the very last thing she wanted to see, especially with the way she was feeling then. And then he went and hugged her.

All the agitation she had been feeling until that point, disappeared into panic. A genuine unexplainable terror overcame her so suddenly that she was paralysed by it, unable to move or violently shove him away from her as her entire being wanted her to do. It was pure torment in those seconds, to be held so close and not being able to do anything about it. Her heart began racing without braking, that she thought she was having a heart attack. It was Crane, she knew it was him, but her body and mind wanted nothing more than to escape from his embrace. When he did hear the strangled plea she made, and she was looking into his face, her sense came back only half heartedly, she still didn't like what he did, but she didn't like how she'd reacted either, so she apologised in a meaningless way. At that point, she really didn't care how she sounded, because his arms around her still lingered on her skin, and she wanted to scrub the feeling away.

Slowly, she turns the faucet so that bathtub doesn't overflow. Abbie stares at the into the tub, her previous fear coming back to her. The bathtub is nothing like the sarcophagus she was held in, yet she equals them, and suddenly she's back in the sarcophagus, lying still on her back. After the so called doctor had injected her, he said some few other things to her, and closed the lid. Abbie couldn't remember a time in her life when she'd felt more helpless than then. She was numb, and drugged, implanted with a demon baby and on the verge of dying from terror. She never dreamt, or had nightmares, because what was more of a nightmare than what she was going through at the time? No one spoke to her, no one came to see her, except twice when Lukas came to inject her with something he said to be nutrients so that she wouldn't die of hunger, and that after some days, they would let her have a real meal if she behaved. All the time, she remained imprisoned in the deathly thing, that signified death, her own death.

And because of all those memories, Abbie can't bring herself to climb in the bathtub, she can't do it when she's in the bathroom by herself, alone. That thought hits her extremely hard.

'Crane?' she shouts at the top of her lungs, before she knows what she's doing. Only after she's shouted, does she realise that she's acted so impulsively that she didn't even get the chance to think about why she has called him.

In no time it seems, the bathroom door swings forward, and Ichabod appears in the bathroom, his face ten thousand shades of alarmed.

'Abbie?' He looks at her with eyes popped out, then looks around the bathroom for signs of a threat. All of a sudden she feels ridiculous, and just as instantly, she feels embarrassed. How would it have been, had she been undressed?

'Oh,' she exclaims softly, 'uh...' The truth is, she has no idea what to say, because the look of alarm on his face is as funny as it is easing of her own anxiety, even if for just a second.

'I thought perhaps something was the matter,' he explains to her, 'When you called my name, I only imagined the worst.'

'I'm fine,' she lies, feeling her usual self shifting into her body. Where has that self been all this time?

'I probably should've not shrieked your name right? I mean I could've been naked.'

She likes this self, minus the lying, but she definitely feels that something has changed inside her, from ten seconds ago. Abbie feels more familiar to herself, with herself.

'And I could've done better by knocking, I did not think it through, I am sorry.'

'We're even, for being equally stupid,' she shrugs, looking into the bathtub, and fear floods all over her again, 'but I was thinking...'

'Yes?'

'Remember that book you got from the precinct? The one that we got information on the Sandman from?'

He nods his head in agreement, 'What about it?' The level of curiosity in his voice, even she can't ignore.

'Do you still have it here?'

'I do.'

He still has it, and she's thought of a plan to help her feel safe without letting on that she's terrified beyond reason.

'I need you to do something for me,' Abbie digs one of her hands into the water. A chill grows inside her, but she decides to keep up appearances for Crane's sake, the man is already distraught, she doesn't want to add onto that.

'Anything,' he says sincerely, clasping his hands behind him.

'Can you stand outside the door and read me that part on Silver Hexes and Charms? I think...I may have...you know what, I'll tell you later. Can you just read it for me please?'

Every word coming out of her mouth is of course a lie, but she can't tell him that she only wants to know he's outside the bathroom for her safety.

Crane gives her a most curious look, which she ignores completely, 'Please?'

After what appears to be consideration on Crane's part, he nods slowly, 'If that is what you want.'

'It is,' she replies quickly. As she watches him pull the door with him, she just knows he doesn't believe her. In all honesty, her invention is not a solid one, any two-year old would see through it. However lame it may be, her excuse will make sure that Crane is outside the bathroom, and part of her fear will be eased.


	16. Chapter 16

The night she came to Crane from the Hessians, was the longest night she's ever known in her life. She didn't sleep one wink. She kept the light on, and couldn't get it in her to pull the blanket around her, not after she did the first time, and it felt like she was being squeezed tightly together. Unable to breathe, she'd flung the blanket in fear to the floor. And she also found that she couldn't remain lying on the bed while trying to sleep. It reminded her of the sarcophagus so strongly that she scrambled off the bed to one corner in the bedroom. Every sound, every shadow she saw, every chill she felt had her jerking up suddenly, scanning the room for unusual activity. At one point she'd cried, because she thought that finally, she was going mad.

The next morning, she pretended that she had a good night's rest, she didn't confide in Crane, because she wasn't sure where exactly to start, plus there was that tiny thing in her that really couldn't stand him, it was tiny, almost not there, but it was. He didn't ask her questions, or bring her disappearance up, something she was very grateful for. When he told her that he would be heading down to the station to report her not-missing (found), Abbie starting panicking, making up a lie that got her to go with him, because she couldn't tell him that she didn't want to be alone, especially not in the cabin. In the woods. Trees were still a raw reminder.

At the station, she learned of the whereabouts of her car, and all the in-betweens. No one believed her when she said nothing happened to her, and that she was absolutely fine, but no one pushed it, not even Luke who was ready to put her in his pocket and keep her there forever for safety. Unlike with Crane, when Luke hugged her, she didn't feel frightened, but she didn't feel safe either. She couldn't help resenting Luke a little, Crane was the one she trusted, not him. Jenny had been most pleased to see her (apart from Crane that was), saying things about how sorry she was that they haven't always gotten along. Abbie didn't think much of it, she just wanted to sleep, and eat, and sleep some more. So she asked Jenny to get her sleeping tablets from a pharmacy, again, no one questioned her.

Eventually, she and Crane were back at the cabin, when the sun was setting. She didn't share with him that the thought of going back to her apartment cut deep into her skin, but she sensed that somehow he knew all the things she wasn't telling him. He'd once told her that she was easier to read than a complicated cipher.

'Leftenant?' he was standing outside the bedroom door, 'You do know that you can trust me do you not? Whatever you do not wish to tell the others, you may tell me.'

She wanted badly right there and then to pour out all that was inside of her, to tell him that she didn't feel like she was sane anymore, and that she couldn't eat for fear of the demon in her growing rapidly. She knew she could trust him, there was not a part of her that didn't want to get everything she was feeling out into the open, but the fear she felt towards the general world, overruled her need. Besides, what would she say, where would she begin? And how would he look at her from then on?

'I know,' she said to him, before closing the door in his face. That night she took three sleeping tablets. She considered that it could be more than the dosage she's supposed to take, but that didn't stop her from taking all three tablets.

The next time she awoke (she couldn't remember dreaming), it was four in the afternoon the next day. She took another three tablets when she'd called out for Crane and he didn't answer. There was no way she would stay in the cabin alone, and awake.

Her head feels heavy, just as do her legs. In fact, she feels a dull ache all over her body. Slowly, Abbie opens her eyes. As she tries to organise her thoughts, her vision, a familiar voice speaks.

'Leftenant?'

'Hmm,' she moans, attempting to raise her head. The attempt only worsens the 'weight' of her head, 'Ugh,' she groans.

'Leftenant, are you all right?' Crane asks. He hasn't yet come into her line of vision.

'My head,' she says, 'Where are you? I can't see you.' She hears feet moving.

'I am here. What is the matter with your head?'

'It's so heavy,' Abbie confesses, closing her eyes, because she still can't see him, and she hopes closing her eyes will rid her of the heaviness.

'Will you excuse me? I shall be back shortly.' Abbie hears feet moving again, then a door opening, and then nothing.


	17. Chapter 17

**This chapter skip jumps from second to second and a little rushed. Sorry.**

**As I am right now, I'm super annoyed with a review I just read that basically says another fic I wrote sucks (though I don't know if that person has ever written a fic in their life), and so I'm just deeply hurt, and I know my sorrows have nothing to do with you, I'm just telling you to emphasise that PLEASE, PLEASE, do NOT give bad reviews, rather just don't read the story. I'm really not okay with 'constructive criticism', it hurts, and sucks, and makes me feel worthless. So please don't. Really guys, don't.**

He's allowed it for far too long. Something is the matter with her, and something has definitely happened to her in the time that she was missing, but she hasn't spoken to him about it. He's left her be, because he thought that she would tell him when she was ready, after all they didn't keep secrets from each other. But this has gone on for too long, the curiosity is killing him, and that is not even touching the constantly growing fear that she has become someone else. The tiny things give him reason to believe that the Leftenant he knew, is really not the same one who came back. For the past two nights, he has considered that she could be a demon disguised as the Leftenant, on a mission to destroy the earth.

He's constantly worried about her. She's been back four days, and two of those she's spent asleep. He asked Jenny if it was normal that she slept so long without endangering her life with the medication she took, only to have his fear heightened when Jenny suggested that Abbie could try to commit suicide. While she slept, he took the container of the sleeping aids from the bedroom with the goal that the next time she awoke, she wouldn't find the tablets.

She's awoken now, after sixteen hours, and is complaining about a heavy head. He's concluded that her head is reacting to the drugs (Jenny told him the amount of tablets had been in the container when she got it) she took. Along with his current worry for her, he feels a sort of anger towards her, for not trusting him, even though she insists that she does, and continuing to bear whatever it is that she is, by herself. They are partners, he cares deeply for her life, of course he would want to know what harm befell her in her period of absence.

She's sitting upright on the bed when he returns, 'Leftenant?' It's quite curious how she is, the blanket on the far end of the bed, as though it has been pushed there, and she looking ready to take flight.

'Crane,' she says breathlessly. He wants to enter fully into the room, but he has the suspicion that she will not take it well, so he waits outside, the headache medication he went to fetch, clutched tightly in his hand.

'Leftenant please,' he says, seeing the way she is calming down that something is definitely wrong with her, 'Tell me what is bothering you. I cannot help if I do not know what the matter with you.'

'Crane, I can't,' her voice is shaky, 'I want to tell you, I just can't.'

This hurts him, her words hurt him, the way he can see she's in deep internal pain hurts him.

'Why can you not tell me?'

'I just can't.' Abbie begins to cry, her hands coming up to cover her face. The only other time he's seen her cry was when he was about to take his own life to stop the Horseman. It's not a good thing to know he's caused her tears both times. Now, for insisting she tells him about her disappearance. Forgetting that he wasn't going to enter until she okayed it, Ichabod crosses in leaps to the bed, taking a seat on the bed near her.

'Abbie,' he places a consoling hand on her shoulder. She doesn't flinch, that's a good sign.

'Forgive me Abbie, it was not my intention reduce you to tears.' She continues to cry softly.

'Abbie please...if it bothers you so much, I shall never bring it up again.' He means the words right now, his only fear is that he might not keep them when time has gone by. Abbie lifts her hands to look at him.

'I'm sorry,' she whispers, 'I really can't tell you.' He sees that she means it, but he also sees something else in her eyes, some sort of dislike or hatred, he can't really tell which. Ichabod adds it onto the list of things about her that have changed. The 'something' in her eyes is minimal, because the majority of her eyes tell him that she's afraid, but it's still there. To forget that he saw it, he pulls her into another hug. Abbie falls into the hug, her arms going around him.

'I think,' she says some seconds into the hug, 'I think I should go home.'

**Abbie's POV**

She lifts her hands to look at him, because the words he's spoken touched deep within her. No one has ever been more sincere than Crane in all her life, he doesn't say things he doesn't mean. For this reason she lifts her hands to look at him.

'I'm sorry,' she tells him. The words, she means, but suddenly, because he's that close to her, she wants to claw him apart, to watch him drowning in his own blood, until there wasn't life in him anymore.

'I really can't tell you.' That's what she uses to cover up her disgust of her own thoughts. What's more disgusting is that she really would like to physically hurt him. Fortunately for her, he doesn't see through it, instead he pulls her into a light embrace, a sign of comfort and maybe friendship. Leaning on him, Abbie realises that if she stays any longer, she might just hurt him, truly hurt him.

'I think,' she starts, 'I think I should go home.' She would rather die than hurt him.

**Following chapters will address how Abbie adjusts to the world and all that. Be patient please.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Guys, hi. Firstly, let me apologise for not updating in centuries, but I was so dry on inspiration that I really couldn't write. I can never write without inspiration, it comes out all wrong and I didn't want that for this fic. I also want to apologise for the lack of content in this fic, because I'm not big on detail, and I really don't like to do emotional pieces, they're so draining. Honestly, I haven't put that much detail, and appropriate feelings in here, so just be ready for that. **

She returned home with a very heavy heart the next day, it took all she had to refuse that Crane come with her, just to help her settle it, and it took all she had to refuse Jenny's offer to stay with her for a while. She didn't think she could be around them without spilling the truth of what happened to her. She was trying her level best to ignore that she wasn't pregnant with a demon, and being around people that cared would only have her reminded that she isn't the same anymore, that now she's a mother to evil and there is nothing she can do about it. She knew it was a mistake the moment she said it. She knew that if she wasn't with Crane, she would be most vulnerable and scared senseless, but she couldn't allow herself to continue living with him, as much as she wished to. Something about being around him made her want to be aggressive all the time, made her want to hurt him, and the worst part was, she enjoyed the feeling that came from the thoughts of harming him.

Before she unlocked her apartment door, she stood outside it for ten minutes, she stood waiting to faint to the floor with all the anxiety she felt. She'd known it wouldn't be easy, but still, she thought she could brave it out. Once she was inside, she really couldn't keep from palpitating exceedingly, it was so bad that she was sure she would have a heart attack. Surrendering to the fear, she fell into one of the sofas face down. She couldn't bear to lie on her back, doing that would only increase her anxiety. Eventually, she did calm down, and she was able to leave the sofa for her bedroom. Abbie was glad to find that her bedroom didn't scare her so much, it felt like sacred relief to be back in there, with familiar settings that didn't remind of the nasty thing that has become her life. In her bedroom, she found that she felt at peace, she felt a lot like her old self, the Grace Abigail Mills that used to be, before all that happened, happened. In there, she arranged her thoughts, and thought up lies, thought up excuses and plans to avoid everyone as much as she could, that helped her relax a lot. But when she opened her cupboard, and found the jacket she'd been wearing and the phone atop it, she lost all her calm and screamed suddenly. Her inside felt like it was on fire, and her eyes stung violently, she wanted to bang her head into a wall until she didn't feel pain anymore. She didn't know what was happening to her, she knew what she was going through, but she didn't know. Abbie couldn't control her screaming, her brain told her to stop, but her mouth wouldn't obey. The only thing she could do was forcefully pull the jacket and phone from the cupboard, causing both to land violently on the floor, but still she didn't stop screaming. She felt like she was entering her apartment all over again, and the Hessian was shooting her again, the only difference was that now she was screaming, fighting back instead of obeying him like she did the first time. It took long hard staring at the items on the floor to understand her behaviour, she realised that she'd suppressed all her feelings, she'd buried them under fear and hopelessness. Now, it was different, her brain was bringing to life the feelings she didn't express. By understanding that, Abbie could stop screaming and instead sank to the floor and cried. She cried for herself, she cried for her life, for the things that were now lost to her, for the person she's been forced to become, she cried until her head was pounding, and her eyes were drooping heavily.

She awoke later on to a loud pounding. It took a moment to gather what happened, why she was on the floor, and why her head was beating furiously. When she realised that the pounding was coming from her door, she got up quickly (forgetting to arrange herself) and rushed to open the door.

'Luke!' She was more than surprised to see him, she expected Crane or Jenny and even Irving, but Luke no.

'Abbie, hi,' he spoke in a soft tone, full of caution and affection.

'What...' she looked at him from head to toe, 'What are you doing here?'

'Uh...I heard you came back home, and so I just wanted to check if you're okay.'

Involuntarily, she remembered when he'd hugged her, how she hadn't felt the hostility she'd felt towards Crane.

'I'm fine,' she told him, 'I'm just a little tired, but I'm fine.'

'We're worried about Abbie. It's been four days, and you haven't been to the station, but you keep saying you're fine.'

'Irving said I could get a week, so I'm using my week.'

'May I come in? I brought food.' Luke lifted a plastic carry bag for her to see, Abbie smiled softly. She didn't know how she would get out of this one, because she didn't feel like company.

'I don't think I'll be good company Luke, I'm sorry.'

'Abbie, I promise you won't have to talk, we'll have a meal, I'll crack a few jokes...you know, like we used to do. What do you say?'

'I say your jokes were never funny,' she told him. Of course she remembered the routine. Whenever she felt like the world would explode, he would bring over some food, and they would just eat in silence until the silence was too much and she would crack. It was always excellent therapy for her. Maybe it was just the thing she needed to keep her mind off everything, just once.

Luke made her realise something important, that she needed to be with someone. He didn't say such a thing to her, but he provoked he thought that living alone would not be the best thing for her. the minute he left, after a long dinner, she took her phone-with shaking hands-and called her sister. She made it sound casual that Jenny could come stay with her for a little, but in truth, she was glad and relieved that at the times she would feel the most anxious, someone would be home with her, she wouldn't be alone.


End file.
